


For the world is hollow and I have touched the sky

by bannanachan



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: M/M, almond fluff - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bannanachan/pseuds/bannanachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros Nitram finds solace in a surprising place while recovering from his relationship with Vriska.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the world is hollow and I have touched the sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zivlok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivlok/gifts).



> One day (today), it was [Zivlok](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivlok)/[Pantslesswrock's](http://pantslesswrock.tumblr.com/) 23rd birthday. I asked if I could write him a fic, and he said he wanted me to write deep, emotionally moving Almond Fluff.  
> A cocktail and two glasses of red wine later, here is the result.  
> I'm so sorry.  
> (He isn't.)
> 
> P.S. The title is from the _Star Trek: The Original Series_ episode of the same name, since I read it to him as an example of the kind of over-the-top title I was thinking of giving this and he said I should just give it that one.

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are so very, very exhausted for somebody who is dead.

What really gets you is that you don’t even know how long it has been. Dreambubbles being dreambubbles. It’s been a long time, but what’s a long time here, even? Maybe it was a year, maybe a month, maybe 10 years. Whatever it was, it was too long.

And you still don’t know how to feel about it, you still don’t know how to process anything. That’s what she’s taught you, isn’t it? That’s what the whole thing was, her tricking you, teasing you, teaching you to never believe your instinct and never say no and never feel like you were justified, ever, unless it was in something you were doing for her. She said she was sorry, and said she was sorry, but it was a lie. Every time, it was a lie.

You are so very, very tired of being lied to.

Since leaving Feferi and Nepeta – whenever that was – you’ve been alone, for a while. Trying to sort out your thoughts. You figured you could use some alone time, after all the time you spent together with her. You figured Feferi and Nepeta would be fine – they were strong, they could make it on their own – and you knew that you would be. You knew it would be better for you, but it was – well, lonely, being alone. You’d expected that, too. Only you hadn’t really expected being lonely to hurt quite so much.

It should have felt good, to be separated. But it didn’t. And it hurt, especially, because you knew it was just because of what she’d done to you, how fucked up you were – but knowing didn’t stop the pain. You were starting to feel so desperate that you almost went back to her.

That was when you met him.

The first thing you noticed was how different he looked. That giant bulb of a head, pure white, just like all of him that wasn’t green. Not Alternian colors at all, considering he was your First Guardian. He looked like the moon, you guess, but not like your friends. Shorter than you, the first time you’d ever met a man who was shorter than you. Was he a man? It was hard to tell – sure, he looked like it, but he was a puppet. But he never acted like a girl, so that helped you get along with him (boys were easier than girls). And it wasn’t bad that he was so different. Really, it helped a lot – you could use a change in your life.

Most importantly, he was honest. Consistently honest. That was what got you, you realize, what drew you to him so strongly. Honesty had been missing for your life for so long, you’d almost forgotten what it looked like – actually, you’re not sure you ever had it. Except maybe from Tinkerbull, who was after all long gone. Your earliest memories all involve her, and so of course, they all involve lies. So his honesty – it was refreshing. Combined with all the other things that made him different, you couldn’t help but be intrigued. So you decided to stick around. A break from the monotony of loneliness couldn’t hurt, after all.

That was how it started, at least. Now – well, you don’t know what to think.

Because sometimes, Scratch is perfect. Sometimes, depending on the bubble, depending on the way the light reflects off his dome-head, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Sometimes, when you look at him, you really feel like you’re staring up at Alternia’s moons – like you’re home again, however briefly, and it’s so beautiful you want to cry. (You don’t – you chuckle instead, and throw down some sick fires as a quick cover. Somehow, you couldn’t stand to let him see you cry.) Sometimes, he’s kind, and considerate, and he asks you how you’d like your tea made every time even though he must know by now, because he is such an excellent host. He never says no, he never laughs at your ideas, he never tells you you’re lame, or invalidates you.

Sometimes, he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met, and all you can think about is how it would feel to kiss him with your small grey lips on his big white head right where his mouth should be.

But sometimes he’s not.

Sometimes, Scratch is violent. He’s nonchalant – too nonchalant. Especially when he talks about women. About the Condesce, the Handmaid, and Rose Lalonde. You don’t know how to feel, most of the time, but when he talks about them, you can’t help but feel bad. Worst of all is when he hits closer to home, when he talks about Kanaya, and Terezi. When he talks about Vriska.

Vriska was awful, and you hated her as much as you loved her, but when he tells you the story of what he did to her (or what Terezi did to her, you guess, depending on your perspective, but you figure Terezi had her reasons at least), he doesn’t even flinch, and you feel shivers run down your whole body. Maybe she did deserve it (most of the time, you manage to believe that she did – however fucked up you might be, you’d have to be off your rocker to think that Vriska Serket didn’t deserve all that was coming to her and more,) but the way he talks about it… it just doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t seem fair, to talk about somebody’s suffering so nonchalantly. He may not have a face, but after so long together, you can tell how he’s feeling most of the time. And when he talks about Vriska, he’s not feeling anything. And you don’t think it’s just the abuse that makes you feel so unnerved about that.

She may have put you through hell, but no one deserves to be talked about that way.

And you’re sure as hell sure that your planet doesn’t deserve to be talked about that way.

So – after much deliberation – you decide to leave him. There’s no hubbub about it, or fuss – it’s not like you have anything to pack. You just decide to leave him, so you do.

But time and space are fussy in the dream bubbles, and deciding to leave someone like that will only really work if the universe decides it should. When you left Vriska, the universe was on your side. This time, for whatever reason, it isn’t.

Usually shifting settings feels sort of fuzzy, and you’re not sure where you are (or that you’ve moved at all) until you’ve already been there for some time. But nothing about Scratch was ever usual. Least of all the mansion.

You had hoped to avoid this.

That’s why you had left without a word.

“Tavros?”

Reluctantly, you turn around. Sure enough, there he is – the voice you recognize so well. The body too, now that you’ve turned, from head to bowtie to perfectly pressed pants. All 4’ 1” of him, so familiar it’s touching and so enticing it hurts.

God, why can’t you ever just like the normal ones?

“Uh, hi, Scratch.” You mumble sheepishly.

“I was worried about you.” He says. He speaks in a monotone, but you know him well enough to hear that he really is worried in his voice – even if you didn’t know that he always told the truth. “I thought I might never see you again. That you’d returned to her.”

You laugh nervously. “I, uh, thought about it, yeah.” You say, which is not a lie – you think about it all the time. “But I thought the better of it, when I thought about it. She, well, uh… I don’t think, it would be very good for me, if I went and saw her. Even if I sort of, want to, sometimes.”

“What about your other friends?” He asks. “That clown, my fellow servant – Gamzee, isn’t it? He was rather close with you, wasn’t he? If you were yearning for other company.”

You blush very hard at that, but you try to keep your composure. “Well, yes, he was, I guess, but I, never really felt the same way, to be honest. I thought it might be, awkward, especially considering, uh… you and I, I guess, and you and he, on top of that.”

You think you see him nod. “Understandably. You’re probably right. The Makaras were – always an odd breed, I suppose. Not the type of person I would trust. But I tend to defer to better judgment on these things. Then again, I’m not sure he ever trusted anyone, in the truest sense. Besides me, of course.”

Pot, kettle passes through your head, but you think hard and let it slide. “Well, he was, certainly interesting, yeah. I mean, I think he’s changed a lot. I guess, we all have, really. Besides, you, haha.”

You can almost see him smirk at that, and your heart goes aflutter. “Indeed. It is difficult to change, for someone like me. Someone not quite real.”

You laugh nervously again. “Aren’t we all? I mean, we’re dead, after all.”

“No one quite so much as me, Tavros. You know that though, I’m sure.”

You do. But you have to question it, when he says it aloud like that. You can’t bear to let that assumption go unquestioned. Hard decisions to leave him aside, you can’t bear for Doc Scratch not to be spared. Not now. Not when none of it even matters any more anyway.

You do not – cannot – say this out loud.

“So, how’ve, you been?” You ask, stuttering.

“Oh, the usual.” He replies. “Nothing new to report, as if that’s possible. For anyone, let alone me. I’ve been mostly alone. For a little while, I was – well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Your heart thumps. “What, doesn’t matter?”

He hesitates a moment, but answers. “I was with Kurloz Makara. Rather dull conversational life, as you can imagine, but there was one eventful thing.”

Your heart thumps again, and you wish so badly that you could war your emotions anywhere other than your sleeve, just this once. “Eventful, how?”

His expression (characteristically) is blank. “We were nearly destroyed.” He says. “By our own master. Calliope was in the neighborhood, apparently. But it’s really no matter, is it? She got away, as did we. What are another hundred dead, in the name of his quest?”

You flinch. Another hundred dead – that probably includes at least one more you. One more Gamzee. One more Karkat.

One more Vriska.

But Scratch believes in English more than anything, and in front of him, you can’t bear to say it. And even if you could, all the Vriskas in the world couldn’t make you jump as much as that thought. After all, there is only one Doc Scratch.

“I’m, sorry.” You say.

“Why be sorry?” He asks. “We’d be willing sacrifices, to his noble cause. We already have been, haven’t we?”

“Well, I suppose, that’s technically correct.” You say. “But I, am still sorry, I guess, because I’m glad, that you weren’t.”

“And why is that?”

You try not to blush.

“Because, you’re my friend.” You say. “And I’d be sad, if you died. Since, most of my friends, did too, already. And it’s, kinda, sad, sometimes.”

“Fate is not sad, Tavros.”

And now you’re getting frustrated, because comments like that are why you left him. Omniscience is one thing, but how – how – can he be so nonchalant about that? After everything, everything that happened to your friends, that happened to you, that is happening now – how can he use the word fate, and mean it so sincerely?

“Actually, Doc, it is, pretty sad, a lot of the time.” You say, letting your anger show. “Because dying, actually, is really a sad thing, and it’s happening a lot, so.”

He shrugs. “I suppose. I am sorry, Tavros, but you know I cannot feel quite the same remorse that you do over these things.”

Your heart breaks.

You do know that. You know it backwards and forward, consciously and unconsciously. But you can’t accept it. You can’t even if you try to force yourself.

So you kiss him. He doesn’t have a mouth, but you do your best.

It is a very long moment before you break away, and it is a long time after that before he  
replies.

“I am not a suitable choice for a matesprit, Tavros.” He says. “Nor a kismesis. You should know better. I would’ve had you culled for that, some time ago.”

“A lot of people would’ve had me culled, for a lot of things.” You say. “But we’re not on Alternia, actually, so, unless you’re going to do anything about it, I don’t really care.”

There is another long silence.

“Are you, going to do something about it?” You ask.

And now, mouth or not, you are certain that you see him smile. “Of course I’m not. My dear boy, I am an excellent host. If this is truly what you desire, what kind of host would I be to deny you it?”

“I don’t, care about that.” You say. “I mean, it is, yeah, but that doesn’t, really matter.”

“Oh?” He says. “Then what do you care about?”

“I care about, what you want.” You say. “Not, what you think, with your big huge brain. Or, what your master thinks, and what, he wants. I want to know, what you think.”

“A difficult proposition. I think only of the will of my master, after all.”

You chuckle, and a brown tear runs down your cheek. “I thought you said, you couldn’t lie, Scratch.”

He is silent.

“We’re dead, aren’t we?” You ask. “I mean, we are, it’s not, a question. We’re dead. So, what does it matter, what your master would think, or want? I want to know, what you want, Scratch. I need to. I need to know, because I need to know, that you want, really, anything.”

He looks at you for another long moment. In the time that Scratch looks at you, oceans rise and fall, and planets die, and so do a thousand different timelines. Your dead heart beats like a drum, and in this stillest of places, everything is still.

“No one has ever asked me that before.” He says.

You kiss him again. Somehow, you can feel him kiss back, and it is the happiest moment of your life.

“Get used to it.” You say. “I’m going to keep asking.”

“Until what?” He asks.

“Until, the answer is me.”

Tentatively, you feel something on your back, and you look down a little and realize it’s his soft and fingerless hand, moving so delicately that you could have missed it if you weren’t paying attention, so desperately, with every sense at your disposal.

“Tavros.” He says. “My dear boy. You don’t need to wait at all for that.”

Your heart leaps. In a second, the mansion, Vriska, and hundreds of double-dead friends fall away, and you stare into the eyes of a man with no face.

“Say it, out loud.” You say.

He hesitates only a moment. “I want you, Tavros. I want to be with you. Now and forever.”

You kiss him. And thanks to the dreambubbles – in a sense – it really does last forever.


End file.
